Put your Blog name & URL in the Linky thing. You can also grab the code if you would like to insert it into your posts.

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Happy Follow Friday!

﻿Q: Activity! Who is your to-die-for book crush? What do you think they look like? Add an image to make us all happy.

A: Definitely James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser. Seriously, I read Outlander for the first time when I was 11, and while I typically don't like redheads in reality, omg does he just sound like an ideal man all around, even with all his faults!

I saw this fanart done (It is actually model Travis Fimmel) and thought it was actually a pretty good representation.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Happy Wednesday! This flash group challenges authors to write 500-1,000 words around a prompt theme, which we have several to choose from. This week I chose the line prompt, "When did you become such a ...". I hope you enjoy this latest installment!

Lights swirled with all the grace of a blizzard. They buffeted my body, twisting me. Whispers howled through my mind as I futilely tried to cover my ears.

I opened my mouth to scream for it all to stop and the cacophony poured into me. Arching, muscles rigid, they flooded my being.

"Mnemosyne," cried the whispers.

The pool of Memory.

I remember.

***

When I woke up Tek was on the floor beside my pallet. The lion was resting his head on my leg

"What ... ?" My croak was barely audible. I licked dry lips.

Tek's head whipped up. "Nysion."

That was my name. My hand came up to cover my throat.

"Thirsty?"

He cradled my head in one large hand and held a wood cup to my mouth with the other. Water spilled down my cheeks and I coughed.

"Sorry," Tek said. His lion huffed; Tek shot him a look.

I was limp in the bed. "What happened?"

"You're the Orphic."

That's not what I meant. "I know. Why am I so weak?" My hands felt the scars, remembering a past life where the collar had shackled me until that mortal body crumbled. Sigils raised from the inner rim that withheld the dreams from entering me were imprinted on my skin.

"You've been dreaming for more than fifteen days now. Some broth was all I could manage for you to take and most of that you'd spill." There was the cranky man whose gruff manner had so scared me before. Not anymore.

I was wasting from hunger after many days listening to the strands of Memory I'd consumed. My stomach snarled.

Tek grumbled as he got up. "I'll get you food."

I stroked the lion's scratchy rough as I watched my lover walk to the cupboard, grab some bread and then ladle a cup of broth from the pot by the fire.

He was kneeling beside me when I dared ask. "How long have you been waiting this time?"

His broad shoulders bent as Tek sighed. "Too long."

"When did you become such a sorcerer? A wemic? I've never seen you manifest a physical half-merge."

Tek broke off a bit of bread and dipped it in broth to soften the crust. He brought it to my mouth, nudging my lips until I took the bite.

"This is our tenth circle. The Titans stole magic after you died last cycle and found your last revelation and the symbol of your re-birth. A pair broke from the essence of the whole, all that they could spare in this final attempt to overcome you. Without you aware I could not act, but your father allowed me close to protect you." Tek kept dipping the bread in the broth and feeding me, avoiding my eyes.

"The signs were too obvious. Your dreams as a child came true too often, once you even slept and spoke of a blood soaked tree surrounded by a sea of silk."

I had but what good had it done? "It didn't save my family."

"You were a child, Nysion."

My jaw clenched as my hands fisted. "I've not been a true child in ages."

"You're not to blame. I left, thinking you would be safe before you matured but I miscalculated. It killed me to leave you, but I thought we needed help against the Cronus and Iapetus."

"You had to survive until your birthing day. Then your powers would manifest and the shock of the collar would tear you from this world before you gained strength from the memories."

I lifted a thin hand to Tek's face. "You learned much while I was waiting to be born. Always my protector, looking out for me."

Tek shook his head, his hand came up to hold mine to his face. "You were harmed. I should've been there to stop it from happening. My travels helped us not at all and hurt you."

It wouldn't matter. The Titans had been lost nine cycles before. This tenth was their last chance but I was free now. I had my memories, my protective lover. I dropped a kiss on his palm, enjoying his rumble.

"You're too weak."

The corners of my mouth curled up as I gave him the teasing smile he loved.

Creaking from the roof and the windows rattling finally broke the heated stare between us. "It's storming?"

"It's why my lion is sticking so close. He wishes to ensure that we are well; he refused to take my word that you'd wake up as soon as you could. He's still wild but the magic calls him." The lion huffed.

Tek rose and pushed more wood into the fire and put the empty bowl on the counter. He settled next to me on his pallet. I rolled to my side, my muscles trembling with the effort, snuggling into him. His fingertips made small circles on the scars on my neck.

His hand held my hip still as his free hand encircled our battling lengths, squeezing them together. So different in this body from my memory, but our souls felt the bond.

We fell over the precipice together, creating a slick, warm mess on our stomachs. Exhaustion claimed me and this time I slept, the dreams leaving me in peace while I absorbed the calm of my lover's arms.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

My lovely publisher, Romance First Publishing, is celebrating its first anniversary!! Congratulations, RFP! Check out the website, and enter to win the contest that runs through Dec. 2nd. (You could win a copy of Pricolici!!)

Sunday, November 25, 2012

JMS Books is a having a big giveaway starting today, and I thought I'd share. They also have a discount of 30% of all their other books too. This is especially good for someone with such eclectic reading tastes as I have. Enjoy!!

YEAR END BLOWOUT!

It's hard to believe 2012 is almost over, but to send the year out with a bang, we're having a HUGE sale on our site! All e-books, all lengths, all formats, in all genres, are 30% off from now through December 31!

FREE E-BOOK BLITZ!

Starting Sunday, November 25th, we're giving away ONE FREE E-BOOK A DAY EVERY DAY until the end of the year! The book will be completely FREE to download for 24 hours in any electronic format you want.

Bookmark JMS Books and check back each day to see the new free e-book. You only have 24 hours to claim each free title so check back daily! Don't miss out!

NOTE: You must have an account to download free books. If all of the items in your cart are free, you won't have to enter credit card information.

Thursday, November 22, 2012

It started as pressure building up and a slight burning in my throat. My breath caught and the hitch couldn't be covered. I waved one hand, asking for a minute. A tissue was crumpled in my hand already, the soft ball clenched hard as I tried to hold on.

Saying good-bye couldn't be done in a stranger's room, in their blankets. I rushed out to get yours and spread it out in the back seat. I held you in my arms, stroked your face, and told you exactly what you needed me to say. I said again and again how much we all loved you. I promised we'd be going home soon.

You kept looking up at me, your brown eyes liquid as your eyebrows shifted back and forth. You were so strong, staying longer than they said you would but in the end your eyes closed. I whispered a broken goodbye and covered you up.

They said I did the right thing, but the right thing hurt like hell. There's something about making the choice that closed those eyes that haunts me. I turn around a dozen times, expecting you to be with me, and fight that burning when the memory of that moment hits all over again.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Happy Wednesday! Today we had a wide variety of prompts to choose from, including photos. Out of the word prompts I chose to incorporate the words: fantasy, extinct, and brilliance. Of course I continued with Orphic Revelations, so I hope you enjoy finding out a bit more about these guys!

“Go, you’re freaking him out.”

The lion huffed, turning away. I gasped as he faded as he walked away until he disappeared. I flicked my eyes sideways, glancing up as far as I dared.

The wemic stood next to my pallet, naked. He was dusted in golden hair but he had legs, human legs. I glanced back toward where the lion disappeared, my hand on my chest where the raspy tongue had scoured my skin. Questions flashed through my mind, one after another that I dared not ask.

After a moment my new master moved away. What was he? I’d heard stories about wemics; tales of their violence and rage as well as their lust for human flesh were whispered on dark nights, but nothing had been said of this. What it some fantasy made up by my mind? Was I delirious back in my cell, lost in a fantasy dream?

“I told you to sleep.”

I lay down, obedient even then. The warm bath, food, and soft bed were too much for me and I fell asleep quickly.

***

The next morning the dysantha was gone from my system. Without orders I was at a loss. I spied a privy pot set off to one side in a small room. I crawled, unable to walk due to the inflamed burns on my heels. On my way back I banged into a chair, making a book fall to the floor.

I froze when the wemic sat up, his eyes falling on me with all their shining brilliance. I yanked my gaze away, prostrating myself for punishment.

“What are you doing?”

I shook as he stomped up next to me. I hadn’t seen him grab a rod, but he was a huge man, he could punish me without one easily.

“You’re not healed enough to move around.” He yanked me up, our bare bodies touching as he held me.He put me down on my pallet as he grabbed something from the shelf by his bed.

“Your feet are still infected. Your stupid flight through the city’s filth infected your wounds. I cannot believe your sadistic fuck of an uncle burned them; you would’ve been marked for life.”

As if I wasn’t already? One hand flashed up to my collar but I moved it before my hand was smacked. “I’m sorry my injuries render me unable to serve you.”

The man snarled, sounding as fierce as the lion. “I don’t want a servant.”

Of course not, I was his slave.

“Yes, master.”

“I said don’t call me that!”

I jerked back, moving away from his outstretched hand. The wemic snarled.

“Damn it, stay still.” He pushed me until I fell back. I whimpered when he grabbed my feet, one hand easily holding both ankles still. He slathered something cold on my heels then set them down gently.

Confusion warred in me. His words were rough but his touch was gentle. Nothing made sense. Sweat beaded on my forehead but I decided to risk everything. I had to know.

“You said a son of Imvar Youk should know better,” I whispered. “You knew my father?”

“I did.”

The wemic stood, moving to a cupboard along one wall. He stepped into a pair of loose linen pants and then pulled a tunic on.

He tossed a tunic to me. “Put that on.”

Dare I question him further? “Ma—”

“Don’t you dare call me master! I. Am Not. Your. Master. I paid your uncle but I was rescuing you. My name’s Tek and you will use it. I promised your father I would look out for you, and I failed. There’s more to you than a slave. You will stop acting like one. ” He glared at me. “Now.”

My mouth dropped open.

“Put on that tunic so we can eat. You have much to learn. First, though, that collar comes off.”

My hands flew up to the thick metal around my neck. “You can’t.”

“You’re right, but my lion can.”

He pointed to the tunic. I grabbed it, my fingers rubbing the soft fabric. I hadn’t worn anything so fine since I’d been enslaved. The large shirt extended past my elbows and pooled around my waist.

I knelt at the edge of the bed and the wemic—Tek—growled. “Don’t get up. Stay there. I will pick you up; your feet need more time to heal.”

He sat me in a chair at the table. I tried to slip down but he growled. Tek made me food, more than I could possibly eat. He’d glared at me but when I’d been unable to eat more, he took my plate and finished it off. Now I was waiting.

A shadow darkened and then I saw the lion. He appeared to step out of the shadows, like a legend made life. I couldn’t help but gasp when he walked straight up to me and rubbed his head against my chest. I could feel him, touch him, but he’d appeared like a spirit.

“Yes, I know you like him. Now help him so I can explain everything without that blasted collar confusing him.”

The lion huffed.

“Be very still.” I knew why Tek had warned me not to move as soon as the wemic’s jaws closed over my neck. I felt the smooth edges of his teeth between my skin and the metalof the collar before he closed his jaws with a snap.

Monday, November 19, 2012

Hi everyone! I'm guest blogging over at Labelle Books with Jennifer Labelle. I've done an interview with her, and I'm running a contest giveaway for a free pdf copy of Pricolici too! You have until Thursday to head over there and comment in order to be entered to win.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Q: Books are turned into movies all the time! Turn it around. What movie would make a great book?

A: I've always wanted to see the dynamics behind the scenes inWillow. That was my first movie I can remember loving as a kid and the world is so incredibly rich with various mythos. The characters are multi-dimensional on screen but I'd love to see Mad Martigan's change to a good guy from a selfish prick as well as Sorcha's and the true evil of Bavmorda.

And who wouldn't want to see this in their head? YUM

﻿

RULES

To join the fun and make new book blogger friends, just follow these simple rules:

Put your Blog name & URL in the Linky thing. You can also grab the code if you would like to insert it into your posts.

Grab the button up there and place it in a post, this post is for people to find a place to say “hi” in your comments and that they are now following you.

If you are using WordPress or another CMS that doesn’t have GFC (Google Friends Connect) state in your posts how you would like to be followed

Follow Follow Follow as many as you can, as many as you want, or just follow a few. The whole point is to make new friends and find new blogs. Also, don’t just follow, comment and say hi. Another blogger might not know you are a new follower if you don’t say “HI”

If someone comments and says they are following you, be a dear and follow back. Spread the Love…and the followers

If you’re new to the follow Friday hop, comment and let me know, so I can stop by and check out your blog!

Today I want to focus on two ways adverbs hurt writing instead of helping. How do we structure sentences to avoid unnecessary phrasing and descriptions, but still keep a story strong visually to the reader? One of the first things that came to mind when I considered this subject was the use of adverbs. My personal view on writing is to keep my words from intefering with the story, and that usually requires keeping things as simple as possible.

First, for those who haven't had a grammar class in a while, I'll define an adverb. Adverbs are words that describes or modifies a noun, verb, or adverb. They're describing words.

But do we need them? Of course we do, to some extent. Adverbs do have their place, like when you want to describe a noun. Will a reader 'see' a character better if I say they are wearing dirty jeans and a ripped hoodie than if I said they are wearing jeans and a hoodie? Yes. Dirty and ripped there describe the clothing and give the character a very different appearance. If I need to show that my character is homeless, that description helps.

When writing fiction, we try to create a picture for the readers. For that we need adverbs. It is hard to write anything without them. It is easy add useless adverbs without realizing it, though. Take a look at my first paragraph. 'Unnecessary' 'first' 'personal' 'usually' are all adverbs. The trick comes from deciding what type of adverbs are useful and which ones are not. Are the adverbs I used words necessary? Some are but one that I pointed out is not. Can you find it?

I'll show you the way I reason through sentences with adverbs I'm questioning. Do I need unnecessary to describe phrasing and descriptions? Well, since I want to point out that they don't need to be used, sure. However, did I need 'personal' in front of view? If I take it out, you still see that it is 'my view', so you have to know that its personal, right? In that sentence personal is an adverb I could remove.

Those are subtle uses of adverbs that writers need to consider removing, especially when writing stories with word limits. Some are easy to spot, like icy cold, steaming hot, running swiftly. Others, like my personal view, are not quite as easy to pick out but are just as redundant. These should be eliminated as much as possible.

Another type of adverb to avoid are those that tend to spring up around verbs. Often, they are words like very, typically, carefully, always, just, often, etc... Most of the time, they're not necessary. Other times, they make a phrase clunky or wordy, when changing the verb would work.

Examples:

Redundant adverb:
She always gets a coffee at 3 PM every day or She gets a coffee at 3 PM every day.
If she gets the coffee every day at 3 pm, do we really need always there?

The noisy fan's constant squeaking drove her nuts or The fan's constant squeaking drove her nuts.
Do we need noisy to describe the fan when we then describe the noise it is making?

Verb changing adverb:
He reaches quickly for falling stack of books or He lunges for the falling stack of books.
Here, a more descriptive verb for the movement eliminates the need to use the adverb.

Amused by her comment, he just gives her a smile or Amused by her comment, he smiles.
Using just gives really isn't necessary when you could change the action to smiling.

Both:
He softly walks into the room, trying not to wake his sleeping wife or He tiptoes into the room, trying not to wake his wife.
Here, tiptoeing describes the walking and if he doesn't want to wake her she is obviously sleeping so that word can be removed.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

It's Wednesday again! *cheers* Time for another installment of Orphic Revelations with my fav flash fiction group. This week I had various photo prompts, as well as several written to choose from, as always. I choose a photo prompt. Enjoy!

﻿

Orphic Revelations Part 2

﻿

I'd huddled next to a refuse heap. The smell hadn't detracted from the first sunset I'd seen free from the hell of my uncle's compound. The pink and purple clouds had been broken by a single bird wheeling across the immensity. The stench was so strong in the cool fall air of tavern leavings and stale beer I’d been sure I'd go undiscovered.

I'd been wrong.

Strong hands grabbed me. "Did you really think you'd escape me?"

I was yanked to my feet. I gasped when my heels struck the cobbles. I tried to jerk away and the wemic snarled, his breath hot across my face as he lifted me into the air

His furious yellow eyes stared deep into mine. "You will stop before you damage yourself further."

My heart thudded so loud I was sure he could hear it. His pupils expanded as he came within an inch of my face and inhaled. "You're bleeding." The setting sun shined on his white fangs when he spoke.

I'd gone without food or water since the dawn of the previous day. I'd expected death for so long, wished for it many times, but now that it was coming …

"Breathe." The wemic shook me.

I decided my heart was going to explode as the darkness overtook me.

***

I was freezing. Moaning, I tried to open my eyes. What had happened? Had I been punished again?

Burning hands lifted me. My stomach heaved. Moaning, my head lolled forward against something firm. Blinking, I tried to force my eyes to focus. Golden blurs were all I could see as I was lowered into a blazing heat until my vision cleared.

"What ...?" Water lapped around my naked hips and then around my nipples. My ass hit the bottom as the water swirled around my shoulders. I looked up and gasped. The wemic!

"You can't cook me!"

He frowned. "Why would I cook you? Silly cub."

I tried to get up when he let me go. He growled and pushed me back down into the tub with one hand.

"Stay in the water. You're chilled and need to burn off the dysantha." The wemic turned his paws silent on the stones. Dysantha explained why I felt so weak. My little sister had a lung infection and my mother had given her dysantha. The syrup made from the orange flowers made her sleep for days. How long had I been out?

"My name is Tek Joordunu, not wemic. I do not eat humans, no matter what rumors your kind believes. I would've thought a son of Imvar Youk would know better, even if you are a slave."

A gasping shudder shook my thin body and tears ran down my face. It didn't matter what else the wemic might do to me, that one act broke me. My former master, my own uncle, had forbidden his name from being spoken.

It'd allowed me to distance from my failure to save my family's honor. I should've died when our family was shamed by defeat. If his name couldn't be spoken, my father's shade couldn't see my shame.

My tears dripped into the water, creating holes in the shaky ripples.

A snarl broke the silence. "What's wrong with you now? Mewling like a newborn!" A scratchy cloth scrubbed at my face but the expected blow didn't come.

His rough touch pushed my head under the water; I didn't fight. Nails scored my scalp as his hands scrubbed it. I gasped as I surfaced.

"No tears."

I knew I'd fail his command at the first punishment, but I wouldn’t invite one. I bowed my head. "Yes, master."

A vicious snarl made me press my back hard against the wood rim of the tub. I tried to stand but couldn't. Water splashed over the edge.

"I'm sorry, master. I'm sorry," I babbled.

He roared, "Don't speak!"

My mouth slammed shut. He pulled me out of the tub, crossed the room, and dumped me on a soft surface.

"Get under the blanket." When I stared at him dumbly he yanked the covering from under me, then wrapped it around my shoulders. "Stay."

My fingers squeezed the thick mat under me. Surely it couldn't be my sleeping place. But my master had put me in this spot and told me not to move. The conflict consumed me.

A bowl was shoved at my face. "Eat."

The smell of meaty broth filled my nostrils. It'd been so long since I'd tasted meat. My hands trembled as I pushed myself up, expecting the bowl to be yanked away. The wemic watched closely until I took my first sip.

My stomach cramped at the rich liquid. I moaned and took long, greedy drinks anyway. A small trickle escaped me and one hand came up quickly to wipe it. I sucked my finger, refusing to lose a single drop.

A sharp huff startled me. I hunched over the bowl, protecting my meal. I stared into his fierce yellow eyes, then dropped my gaze with a gasp. I drained the bowl before he could take it or I could drop during my beating.

I cowered when the wemic took it. "Sleep."

I sank down in the bed, unwilling to draw his ire by disobeying. My bid for freedom failed and I kept forgetting my training. I was as useless as I’d been taught. Despair filled me.

I was almost asleep when a golden shimmer filled the room. I gasped. Twin roars echoed in my ears. A lion jumped across the room to stand over me. A giant head with a mouth full of teeth framed by a huge ruff of dark yellow and brown hair filled my vision.

Then his rough tongue licked up the center of my chest.

A man pushed him back. The wemic, standing on two legs, was that man.

TBC

*rubs hands* The plot thickens. Is he evil, biding his time? Why did Tek buy a slave? How did he know Imvar? And the biggest question of all ... what the hell is he? Don't forget to check out my fellow Wednesday Briefers!

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Hey Cia Fans! I'm being hosted today on Tina Donahue's website today. I've a whole host of stuff for you-an interview, a long excerpt, and a contest for a $5 Amazon gift card for one lucky commenter. Head on over and check it out!!

Monday, November 12, 2012

Ever read one of my favorite authors, M.A. Church? If not, you should! She's here today talking about Nighttime Dreams, her just published sequel to Nighttime Wishes. (I had the honor of reading to beta both, and I really enjoyed them.) Check it out!

﻿

Blurb:

Bryan, a simple country sheriff, is ready to shoot someone and hide the body. One particular homophobic FBI agent is really pressing his buttons. Along with that he finds himself in the middle of an FBI investigation revolving around a recent UFO crash landing, is questioned about a missing friend targeted by the FBI, and makes first contact with the very alien the FBI is hunting.

Daroshi, a Ma’Rairan warrior, has fulfilled his obligation to his species, and is ready to mate. As second in command he monitored the rescue of his captain who crashed on Earth while collecting his mate, and witnessed the confrontation between a country sheriff name Bryan and his captain. Impressed by how courageously the brawny human male handled meeting a fully armed alien warrior, Daroshi asks permission to take Bryan as a mate.

Neither male is ready for the problems that come with Daroshi’s decision, nor the passion that explodes between them.

Excerpt:

Ziang and Daroshi transported down into Bryan’s backyard. The night was pitch black, the moon hid behind layers of fluffy clouds. Branches in the trees danced soothingly to gentle breezes. An abundance of shrubs moved silently in the quietly swirling wind. Bryan’s small house was set away from the main road and deep in the woods, alone and isolated. Much like the owner.

“That’s good for us. The last thing we need is more attention, and that FBI agent showing up,” Ziang said. “I want this to go clean and fast.”

“True. Of course, if he did show up, we could give him to Haya.”

“I don’t like the human, but I wouldn’t do that to my worst enemy.” Ziang tapped the communications device on his wrist, loading in their landing coordinates. “Since Bryan is a law enforcement officer, set your weapon to low stun, just in case.”

“Ziang, I don’t want to stun him if it can be avoided.”

“Neither do I, but Shawn’s words keep replaying in my head. Most bullets won’t hurt us, but then, Bryan isn’t most humans. I’m sure he has other weapons in his house that could be dangerous.”

“But their weapons are so primitive.”

“That may be, but primitive can wound just as easily as advanced. Set your stunner to low, and use only if needed.”

“No, it’s dark enough. If we just appear, we may scare him even more.”

They crept around the house, moving carefully though the darkness. Both activated their face shields for night vision. They blended with the night, silent hunters that became one with the darkness and shadows; predators with a mission. The prey was inside, unaware of what was closing in on him. Ziang opened his wrist weapon and pinpointed Bryan in the house by his body heat. He motioned for Daroshi to follow him to the back of the house. They’d enter through the back door in the kitchen. As they passed the open window, Daroshi came to a stop when he heard Bryan’s comment about his hand and a big red dildo.

His body came alive and his tentacles jerked against his back. A low growl of desire slipped out. Ziang immediately sliced his hand through the air, calling for silence. Daroshi couldn’t help himself; the very image of Bryan working a dildo up his ass inflamed him and sent his desire for the human spinning out of control. Daroshi respected this human’s bravery and his dedication to an often thankless job, but now there was more. He could scent Bryan’s arousal. The scent was unlike anything he’d ever smelled, sharp and musky. From the depths of his soul the word mine exploded in his head. He wanted Bryan with a passion he hadn’t felt, ever, and he’d do whatever it took to ease him into his new life.

In his excitement, he made a rookie mistake. As he passed the window, he didn’t bend down low enough to conceal himself.

* * * *

Bryan sat at the table, waiting for the cookies to bake, when he heard a low growl, quickly smothered, outside the window. He’d heard something very similar, and not long ago. It wasn’t a sound he’d ever forget. Every hair on his body stood up, adrenaline spiked, and his heart kicked into high gear. A cold flush spread though his body. From the corner of his eye, he caught the blurry shape of something moving under the window. He glanced at the back door and his stomach cramped. It was unlocked. There was no way he could lock it before the intruder busted through. And if he was right, and what was out there was what he thought it was, a wood door wasn’t going to stop it. Plus, the window was open.

Calmly he stood and reached for the drawer by the stove. His off-duty weapon was stored there. He grabbed the taser, too. Why was the alien back and sneaking around his house? If it was the alien that Shawn left with, why not just show itself? He’d seen it before, so why act like this? He’d seen lights in the nighttime sky shortly after Shawn left with his alien, but he assumed they were monitoring the situation, to make sure all was okay before they left. It never crossed his mind they were watching him. Why would they be watching him? Another unsettling thought hit Bryan. Had something bad happened to Shawn? If that was Shawn’s alien, and he wasn’t sure it was, had it returned to let him know? But that was silly; he couldn’t communicate with it like Shawn could.

What the hell was going on?

The handle on the back door turned slowly. Bryan tried to slow his breathing; he was sucking air and that wasn’t good. The door eased opened, an inch at a time. He held his ground as the door opened and he found himself staring at a seven and half foot alien… again.

M.A. Church lives in the southern United States and spent many years in the elementary education sector. She is married to her high school sweetheart and they have two children. Her hobbies are gardening, walking, attending flea markets, watching professional football, racing, and spending time with her family on the lake.

But her most beloved hobby is reading. From an early age, she can remember hunting for books at the library. Later nonhuman and science fiction genres captured her attention and drew her into the worlds the authors had created. But always at the back of her mind was the thought that one day, when the kids were older and she had more time, she would write a book.

By sheer chance she stumbled across a gay male romance story on the web and was hooked. A new world opened up and she fell in love. Thus the journey started. When not writing or researching, she enjoys reading the latest erotic and mainstream romance novels.

Saturday, November 10, 2012

Hey MM Fantasy Fans! M.A. Church, one of my fav authors and online friends, has had the sequel to her story, Nighttime Wishes, finally publish! If you'd love to win a copy of Nighttime Dreams go visit her blog now. She's running an easy contest and will announce a winner tomorrow.

Friday, November 9, 2012

Quick heads up... I am doing 2 posts today, so I can get in my feature & follow. Just scroll down if you're looking for the latest update on Dade & Yaseke!

Q: Do you mind books with similar ideas to other books? Similar concepts, backgrounds, retellings or pulled-to-publish fanfic?

A: I'm not a fan of fanfic, actually. I only read it for my authors I beta for that write it; I don't search it out. Since my fav genre is paranormal romance, you see a lot of the same stuff there. I like stories that have something new to them, of course, but the awesome characters in a predictable plot can still make for a lovely story. My one complaint is authors that always use the same plot formula in their series stories. Now that gets old because it shows they're being lazy. I'm always trying something new, even with the same genre, just to test out different plot or writing devices.

To join the fun and make new book blogger friends, just follow these simple rules:

Put your Blog name & URL in the Linky thing. You can also grab the code if you would like to insert it into your posts.

Grab the button up there and place it in a post, this post is for people to find a place to say "hi" in your comments and that they are now following you.

If you are using WordPress or another CMS that doesn't have GFC (Google Friends Connect) state in your posts how you would like to be followed

Follow Follow Follow as many as you can, as many as you want, or just follow a few. The whole point is to make new friends and find new blogs. Also, don't just follow, comment and say hi. Another blogger might not know you are a new follower if you don't say "HI"

If someone comments and says they are following you, be a dear and follow back. Spread the Love...and the followers

If you're new to the follow friday hop, comment and let me know, so I can stop by and check out your blog!

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

This week we had several photo prompts, along with line/word prompts: "The night was deadly quiet..." or the alternate prompts. Use: shadow, vengeance, blister or "She/he brushed up against me, and I saw (blank) in her/his eyes..." or use: tea, samurai, patience or "When was the last time you....?" I chose the prompt with shadow, vengeance, blister.

This is a new story! Woo hoo!! I do so hope you enjoy it, as well as the follow up chapters that will come throughout November. *Warning* There is some graphic violence.

My father's enemies had wreaked their vengeance. They killed my father, captured me, and claimed my family as slaves. My mother would not allow such disgrace. Using her woman's knife, she opened the veins of both of my little sisters and then her own. They were found in the courtyard under the sacred family tree, clothed in their best robes with their hands touching, the blood from their slit wrists turning the soil red.

Furious at their lost worth, my uncle beat me until I was barely conscious. I screamed when his slippered foot drew back and slammed between my legs. I woke in a dark cell some time later.

To shame me, my hair was shaved and I was dressed in slave rags. A thick metal collar, scrolled with symbols on the top and bottom, was fastened around my neck. It chafed for a long time until the skin around my neck thickened and scarred.

Days blended together while the seasons passed. I shivered in the winter in my cell, a blanket a luxury I never earned. Summers I sweated, thirst mounting until I could barely stop myself from begging for a single sip of water.

I'd been barely old enough to leave my mother'sside when my uncle finally claimed the entirety of the family businesses. I finished my growing years as his slave, starved and beaten. I was small, never growing as tall as I should have, but I was far from weak. I was worked hard from sunrise to beyond sunset each day. The only touch I ever felt was to cause pain.

I was scrubbing the outside walking stones, my fingers wrinkled and sore from the harsh soap in the water, when a window opened on the second floor. Voices floated on the wind down to my ears.

"It's dangerous."

My uncle scoffed. "He's broken. Even if he were not, he is uneducated and marked as a slave. No one will follow him."

"I wish him gone. If you will not kill him, sell him. I have a contact that says the wemic is looking for a servant to take back with him into the mountains."

The brush snapped in my hands. The brush clattered against the stones. I flinched, futilely trying to fit it back to the handle.

"Slave!"

My shoulders hunched.

"Come here."

I slowly put the broken pieces of the brush next to the bucket, rising to my feet. Walking soundlessly, my hands loose at my sides, I went up the stairs to my uncle's office on the second floor.

The door slid open before I finished climbing the stairs. Two steps inside I sank to my knees, dropping my forehead to the floor. It was better to be looking down, so that I would never be tempted to meet his cold blue eyes. I'd learned that early on.

Still in that deadly calm voice, he spoke again, "Why did you break the brush?"

"I am a clumsy fool." That response, too, had been drilled into me.

"Oh, I think it was more than that. Were you listening to our conversation?"

Denial was my only hope. "Of course not."

The rod struck again and again. "You lie."

"No, no, I swear." Tears streamed down my face but I didn't cry out from my beating.

The other voice was full of scorn. "I am sure he did hear, Father. I'll not have him here to threaten my takeover of the family. Sell him."

My fear was stronger than the agonizing fire in my back. "No, please, the wemic will kill me."

I fell onto my side when a slippered foot slammed into my ribs. Curling up, I struggled to breathe.

My cousin kicked me again. "I told you he was listening. Even now he's a dangerous, lying sneak. Sell him!"

"Fine."

My heart should've stopped, my fear was so great, but the traitorous organ kept beating. My uncle ordered me locked in my cell. The next morning I was dragged out by my hair, my body so sore I could barely move. A sharp pain dug into my side with every breath.

In the front courtyard I was dropped into the dirt. I eyed the open gate.

"We will not risk you running from the wemic."

I couldn't hold back my screams as hot metal touched the heels of my feet.

"Cover them." My feet were wrapped in rags.

Moments later, a misshapen shadow fell over me.

"I received your message. Is this him?"

"Yes. Fifty akels and he's all yours."

Tawny paws appeared as the wemic circled me. I shook in terror.

"He doesn't look worth the price of a dinner. What can you do, boy?"

I knew the answer to that question. "Whatever you need, sir."

"Look at me."

I slowly lifted my eyes. Honey gold fur covered his body and four legs, but the tip of his tail was dark. His bare chest was covered in a leather vest, twin swords hilts above his shoulders. Worst of all were his fearsome yellow eyes and sharp teeth I could see when he snarled.

The painful burns didn't stop me. Faster than anyone expected, I jumped to my feet and ran out the open gate.

I huddled in an alley, unable to run anymore. Bile burned my throat as I gasped for air. I rearranged the dirty rags, trying to cushion the bleeding blisters. Sweat dripped into my eyes and I wiped it away along with my tears.